


and here be our secrets

by justjoy



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff, M/M, POV Cecil (Welcome to Night Vale), and rain, the author refuses to use the word petrichor for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/justjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>pet·ri·chor</b>, <em>noun</em>; the scent of dust after rain</p><p>(Or, the one time Carlos does a demonstration... not for science.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and here be our secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Important announcements before we begin: here are my headcanon versions of [Cecil](http://omako.tumblr.com/post/58274871104/cecil-and-his-favorite-kitty) and [Carlos](http://helloiamfine.tumblr.com/post/58338623042/and-a-fairly-self-explanatory-but-perfectly), if that sort of thing matters to you.
> 
> Also, this fic contains at least one major reference to my other Carlos/Cecil fic, [anomalous observations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/931173), and can probably be considered a companion fic, although it's perfectly understandable even if you haven't read that one yet!
> 
> And that's quite enough of my blathering for now, dear readers - without further ado, I leave you with... this fic.

Carlos has a very distinctive scent.

Cecil doesn't think it's perfume - aromatic substances had been banned three decades ago by the City Council in a fit over something called _benzene_. Whatever that was.

(Of course, Carlos might not be aware of this ban yet, so it's  _technically_  possible that he's managed to use it somehow without the Secret Police noticing. Cecil doesn't find that very likely, though. Carlos is amazingly unselfconscious about how he looks to most people. The only time he bothers with his appearance is when he's out with Cecil; even then it's not too hard to guess what he's been up to, perhaps by the distinct tang of ozone from the Glow Cloud, or a smudge of glowing substance when he ventures anywhere near Radon Canyon and forgets to change his shoes afterwards. 

Needless to say, Cecil finds it all rather adorable and secretly flattering. Carlos is already perfect, after all, and nothing he does - or doesn't do - is going to change that a bit. But he digresses.)

Cecil doesn't really notice the scent until quite a while after Carlos first came to Night Vale, but it's quickly become one of his favourite entries in the mental list of things he keeps about Carlos, up there with the way he runs a hand through his hair distractedly whenever he's really frustrated with an experiment, or how he still gets all flustered every time Cecil calls him  _perfect_. 

(To this day, Cecil remembers with great fondness the first time he'd said it while Carlos had still been in the booth. He'd just managed to get as far as  _yes, you guessed it, listeners! Dear Carlos, perfect and reliable as always -_ before Carlos had promptly shut him up and taken over, deep baritone resonating beautifully into the microphone.  _I apologise for Cecil, listeners. He'll be getting right back to the community calendar after this, won't you, Cecil?_

Carlos had then proceeded to look absolutely  _mortified_  when Cecil informed him about the spike in ratings for that day's show, because it just went to show how much the rest of Night Vale evidently agreed with him.  _But of course, why wouldn't they?_ Cecil had added with a wide grin, quite unsure why Carlos was banging his head repeatedly with the clipboard he was using for Science. Perhaps it had been part of the experiment?)

It's also one of the few things about Carlos that defies complete description no matter how many times Cecil tries, far beyond the reach of his rather extensive vocabulary - and that's  _really_  saying something. If he'd had to describe it to his listeners, Cecil would have compared it to a breath of fresh air, clean and light with just a hint of earth, though even the freshest air he remembers from his time in Svitz pales _drastically_ in contrast.

He finally decided to ask Carlos about the scent a week ago, acutely aware that his inadequate portrayal was doing it no justice; Carlos' eyes had lit up at his words almost immediately, though, so Cecil supposes that he must have gotten his point across anyway.

Perhaps it was just that much more common outside of Night Vale, and obviously something Carlos liked if his reaction was anything to go by.

(Carlos had been unexpectedly reluctant to explain any further when Cecil prodded him for more - muttering something about the weather in Night Vale and  _you wouldn't understand, Cecil -_  and he hadn't quite managed to properly repress the surge of disappointment at the answer.

Cecil can't deny his curiousity, whether as a reporter or otherwise, and he  _does_  want to know everything about Carlos that he hasn't already found out. But Carlos can certainly have his own share of secrets if he wants to keep them. That's only fair, after all. Cecil is most assuredly  _not_  having a stab of envy at the thought, literal or otherwise, and he is definitely  _not_  feeling jealous, okay?

...right.) 

 

* * *

 

Carlos goes around being secretive for a while after that, and is horrifically terrible at it - his honesty ( _scientific integrity,_ Carlos had once said with a huff of affront) means that he can just barely hide things from the Council or Secret Police when absolutely necessary, and he definitely can't hide anything from Cecil no matter how hard he tries.

Still, Cecil busies himself with studiously  _not_  noticing anything out of the ordinary, which isn't all that difficult to do. He likes surprises, rare as they are in Night Vale, and one from the town's most intelligent and valuable and _scientific_  residents is definitely worth the wait.

(Besides, Cecil isn't  _actually_  omniscient, no matter what everyone believes. He's just made a habit of walking around with his eyes open.)

 

* * *

 

Carlos texts him in the late morning while he's preparing for tonight's broadcast.  _Can you come over in fifteen minutes?_

Cecil doesn't even spare his notes a second glance before replying in the affirmative, complete with a new photo of Khoshekh and the kitten Carlos had adopted, both hissing adorably and spitting greenish-red sparks at the camera.

He makes it to his usual spot right between Big Rico's and the lab with two minutes to spare, although he spends another thirty seconds in a brief altercation with his car door so he's right on time when he knocks on the door of the lab. (Cecil has actually suggested getting a doorbell installed, but after experiencing the one in Cecil's own apartment Carlos insists that the standard telepathic shriek would disrupt his more delicate experiments, and Cecil isn't about to argue with that.)

Instead of the door opening, Cecil gets another text.  _Behind the lab._

He walks around the drab gray building to find Carlos holding an umbrella, glancing alternately between his smartphone and the sky then back again. Carlos isn't in his lab coat as Cecil had originally expected, and he can't help but notice the way the scientist is shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, which is usually either a sign that he's uncertain of what he's saying or just embarassed. 

Cecil frowns, feeling more confused than he generally did around Carlos. "This umbrella won't do if you're trying to summon the Glow Cloud, Carlos. I don't think it can handle anything above two pounds!"

"Just open it, you'll need it." Carlos doesn't quite meet Cecil's eyes as he hands the umbrella over. "Trust me on this one."

Cecil obliges (how could he not, after all, when Carlos had asked so _nicely_?) and holds the umbrella over both of them, but Carlos pushes it gently back towards Cecil before turning and walking back to the lab at an unusually brisk pace.

There's a resounding crash from that general direction few seconds later, and Cecil is just about to run and check on Carlos when drop after drop of something crystal clear start falling in a three feet radius around him.

The scent stops him in his tracks, and Cecil feels himself breaking into a smile as he recognises it. 

He doesn't even notice Carlos standing just outside the small circle until he clears his throat.

"The scent of dust after rain." Carlos is speaking in his Science voice, like this is some theory he's explaining to Cecil - a quick glance confirms that Carlos is still shifting his weight every now and then, and very determined to look everywhere else except at Cecil himself. "You like it?"

Cecil stares, caught somewhere between disbelief and a happy sort of shock.

"This is rain?" is his first reaction. "You made rain?" is next; Cecil just manages to stop himself from tacking _for me?_ onto the end. That would still be better than  _neat -_ it was hard, actually, to do worse than that -but not by much. 

And finally, "Yes," when he belatedly registers that Carlos had asked a question.

The words are tumbling around in his mind, not quite in the right order, like last week when the days had been determined by a dice roll every thirteen hours, resulting in Friday, Tuesday, a swiftly-cancelled Wednesday, Boxing Day, then two and a half Sundays, in that approximate order. (Valentine's Day, thankfully, had not made the list.)

It occurs to him then, to wonder whether this is what Carlos feels about Night Vale, because it would really explain the amount of time he spends looking at Cecil like he's a fascinating non-lethal book or something equally unlikely - but that can't be correct, because Cecil clearly isn't so enthralling as this miracle in miniature happening all around him, right  _here,_ right  _now_ - 

...and, well, it does take a while to register that Carlos is actually answering.

" - although this isn't a very good replication, it's supposed to be somewhat safer to the touch." He's staring up at the roof of his lab now, and Cecil follows his gaze to see what resembles a row of spray nozzles of varying heights and sizes set at the very edge. "I tried to mimic the chemical composition, but the water here seems to be much more acidic and completely resistant to neutralisation, and - what -  _Cecil!_ "

Cecil grins and ignores the spluttering protests as he drags Carlos back to the spot in the centre of the circle, making sure to cover him with the umbrella all the way. It wouldn't do for his favourite scientist to get wet, now would it?

Even if said scientist did spend far too much of his time overthinking things.

"I thought you  _liked_  me for the thinking, Cecil," Carlos retorts with absolutely unconvincing annoyance, and  _whoops_ , Cecil definitely  _hadn't_  intended to say that aloud, although that didn't make it any less true.

Before he can reply, though, the light shifts, glittering bright in the rain, and there's a sharp intake of breath beside him.

Curious, Cecil slants a glance at Carlos - and his breath is stolen by the pure  _wonder_  he finds there, genuine and unguarded even when their gazes finally meet.

Carlos gestures wordlessly to the sky, and Cecil finally sees the graceful arc of light, a dozen shades of purple brilliant against today's backdrop of turquoise-taupe.

"...that's a rainbow. I think. I wasn't expecting a  _rainbow_ ," Carlos says in a hushed voice, like he's afraid that speaking any louder will break this shared moment of silent amazement. "It isn't - ah - it's not usually this colour."

Cecil lets out a little giggle at how completely  _surprised_  Carlos sounds, and before long Carlos is laughing alongside him, to the soft accompaniment of the falling rain.

It's the most beautiful sound Cecil has ever known.

 

* * *

 

Cecil doesn't know how long they stand there - although it occurs to him that Carlos probably does - but eventually the rain reduces to a faint patter ( _drizzle_ , Carlos murmurs beside him) then fades away to nothing, and Cecil reluctantly closes the umbrella. He holds it awkwardly by his side, unsure if he should step back now that there's no longer a reason to stand quite so close.

Carlos doesn't move away, though, so Cecil figures that it's probably fine. 

The rain has collected in little pools among the sand, near-perfect circles that reflect the shifting hues of the sky, and Cecil can't help but hum the tune of today's weather as he watches them dry.

"There's actually a word for it, you know. The scent," Carlos adds when Cecil looks at him questioningly.

Cecil considers that for a moment, then decides that he doesn't care to know and tells Carlos as much. 

Carlos looks bemused at his words - the same half-resigned, half-amused sort of bewilderment that surfaces every time something in Night Vale doesn't quite work like how he expects it to.

(They're very different in that way - Carlos with his need to ascribe proper names and explanations for everything he comes across, while Cecil... well, he likes describing his fair share of things, of course. But Cecil has long since learned that while some things can't be put into words, some don't even need to be, and he's perfectly fine with that.)

Carlos takes the umbrella as they head back to the lab, dropping it into a large bin marked  _WARNING: BIOHAZARD._ "Sorry about the mess, I knocked some stuff over just now. Have you had lunch yet?"

Cecil shakes his head before remembering that he's walking behind Carlos. "No. Big Rico's?"

He'd been planning on a late lunch after recording a couple of new sponsor messages that had just come in, but those can wait. Almost everything can wait, as far as Cecil's concerned.

At any rate, he's pretty sure that Carlos hasn't eaten since this morning, judging from the amount of Science that seems to be covering the table.

"Actually, I was thinking about Arby's," Carlos says after a while, looking up from where he's attempting to prise an insistently wriggling hose from the large tank where he'd kept the rain. 

(Cecil distinctly remembers how that tank had been particularly hard to  _not_  notice, given its sheer size. He hadn't expected that it could contain this  _much_ , though.)

"Arby's it is then," Cecil agrees with a grin. 

The listeners of Night Vale will never hear of all that happened here, not from Carlos and certainly not from Cecil. Perhaps - just perhaps - he'll change the opening of today's show to something more fiiting, something that is  _theirs_  - and that will be all.

But those thoughts can come later. 

Now, of course, he has lunch with Carlos, and Cecil wouldn't miss that for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started out as an experiment in Cecil's POV, and I'm really quite happy with how it turned out overall - many thanks to [blessedjessed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedjessed/pseuds/blessedjessed) for suggesting that I try it out.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think!


End file.
